


Shard

by breathedout



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Blackmail, Canon-typical blood offerings, F/F, Fragmentation of the self, Morally dubious rescue missions, Nonstandard use of lawn implements, Very good wolves, doppelgangers, mirror world
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-06
Updated: 2019-04-06
Packaged: 2020-01-05 20:36:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18373631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/breathedout/pseuds/breathedout
Summary: Marina, having kept her ear to the ground, spots an opportunity.





	Shard

**Author's Note:**

> For [femslashficlets](https://femslashficlets.dreamwidth.org/) prompt "Sharp," and greywash's [Marina/Ladies](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/marina_marina_marina) collection (see the [original mini-fest post](https://the-magicians.dreamwidth.org/4996.html) over at DW and sign up to float a theory about which female character Marina is dating, should you so desire!)
> 
> Thanks, as always, to my love [greywash](https://archiveofourown.org/users/greywash) for the super-quick beta!

"What are you, insane?" Gavin said. "Absolutely not. Never again."

Marina just looked at him. Then she busted out her slow-burn smile, the real sharky one; and the whole time it was slicing its way across her face she was pulling out her bag; pulling out the envelope with her neat little packet of leverage, the one copy here, the three other copies locked away with instructions for their discovery in case of… accidents; all the while watching his complexion go a mottled red with a sort of a green undertone: _fascinating_.

"That's cute," she told him. "That you think I'm asking."

An hour or so later they were standing in front of a mirror in one of the warehouses that Marina had been using back in her own timeline; turned out here it was half-full of yard tools but empty of people, so there was still plenty of room to set up. Gavin's mouth was set in a thin line as he sliced into his own arm; Marina shook out her shoulders, watching the blood sigils appear, putting her game-face on. 

"They can shank you," Gavin said. "And they will," as they stepped through the mirror, "just so you know." 

"Looking forward to it," said Marina, and walked out into the concrete labyrinth, past the rakes and lawn mowers through gently falling snow. 

She turned a corner: shovels; pick-axes. At the far end of the aisle a dark figure rushed past with heavy footfalls and Marina was off: sprinting after it past loppers and weeders. She pulled up short when the thing turned; twisted; its half-a-face still recognizable behind the long blonde waves of its hair; its scarred hands slashing through the air as it brought a trowel down toward Marina's head and Marina pivoted—kicked out—

"Not you, then," she said, when it was lying unconscious on the concrete. "Good to know."

The warehouse was huge. Had it been this big when she'd used it for interrogations and storing magical plunder? It hadn't been this _cold_ , she could say that much. And even though Marina's collection of shady shit had been, well, eclectic, she probably wouldn't have thought to perch an arctic wolf on top of a riding mower. It sat there and blinked at her; and flicked its ear. 

"Yeah?" she said. "You got something to say?"

" _Marina_ ," came a voice, soft behind her; she turned, and there, unbloody, looking at her with something she wasn't sure of but might call, what?— _tenderness_?—was—

"Victoria," Marina said. Victoria rushed forward, arms out; and crushed Marina to her. Clinging: the weight of her; her old gorgeous floral scent; long arms around Marina's waist. 

"I thought you—they—they kicked you out, they would have made you forget it all, how did you—I missed you so—"

"Mmm," said Marina. "Yeah, sorry for the inconvenience; it took me a while to get back. I heard you consoled yourself with _Hoberman_ of all people; what's up with—"

"He wasn't you," Victoria said, crying into Marina's neck. 

"I would fucking _hope_ not," Marina said, but Victoria didn't laugh, didn't even hiccup; just clung onto her, shaking, her hair billowing around Marina's shoulders and her arms. 

"He was never you; I only ever wanted you," Victoria said; and Marina asked, "You come look for me, then?" but she already knew the answer, didn't she. 

She was gentler with this Victoria: rendered her unconscious via a pressure point so she wouldn't have a bruise, then supported her weight until she could lay her out carefully on the floor. As she walked away, the wolf came and curled up with Victoria's sleeping body, to keep her warm. 

Past the edgers Marina walked; past the leaf blowers. She thought belatedly that she could have taken that riding mower. Though, now that she thought about it—catching the scurry of another pair of rushing feet and bolting after them; felling another funhouse Victoria with an acid-eaten throat and long gashing talons in place of fingers—she'd probably be even slower and colder riding on one of those things. Knocking out mirror-monsters and tying them to shelving with twine and bungee cords, at least her heart rate stayed up.

Clutching her upper arms she walked on. She should have brought a scarf, she thought; or a hat. To her right a box of gardening gloves crashed suddenly to the floor and she jumped, and before she could stifle it a little screech—

"Who the fuck are you?" a voice said. 

"Hey babe," said Marina, turning, still breathing hard. "It's been a minute."

" _You_ ," Victoria said. And then, smiling that wide wild smile that had always made Marina's heart slam into her throat, back at school: "What are you doing here, bitch? I thought you'd be off exploring the universe, once you escaped Brakebills Penitentiary." 

"Funny story," said Marina. She licked her lips, sauntering closer to Victoria; looking her up and down as Victoria smirked. "I'd have thought you'd be doing the exact same thing."

They were standing less than a foot apart, now. Victoria broke Marina's gaze for barely a second to gesture around: the snow, the warehouse; then looked back at Marina like she couldn't get enough. She looked _good_ , Marina thought. She looked _great_ , she was—

That glint, in her icy eyes. It was, god, ravenous. Delighted. Marina'd _remembered_ it, but, Jesus, not like this; never this—wild, or this strong; never without that clinging reticence that used to hold them back. _This_ , Marina thought. This one. This is the reason I came. 

"Yeah," she said. "Well. I was thinking we could just break you out of this popsicle stand. Tour a few pocket worlds; drop in on some old friends; party. You know. If you were into that."

Victoria closed the gap between them and: her hand, hard in Marina's hair. Her teeth on her mouth, _god_. 

"Race you," Victoria said, and Marina laughed; and turned; and sprinted after her back toward the world.


End file.
